The Summit
by Lion's Song
Summary: A twist in fate sends Wander back in time and gives him the opportunity to change history: to stop Dormin before They destroyed the ancient civilizations of the Forbidden Lands and became the demon trapped inside the sixteen Colossi. But when the sacrifice would be losing Mono forever, what will a tired warrior choose?
1. ONE: A Twist in the Tale

**{CHAPTER ONE: A Twist in the Tale}**

**...**

_In these cursed lands, where at times even the air seemed to stand still, the only noise to puncture the silence was the labored cry of a beast made of stone._ A Colossus of the Forbidden Lands. It sounded as if the earth itself was bellowing in pain.

Deep inside stone walls, the battle raged. The remnants of a castle courtyard, overlooking an expanse of desert sands, shook with the struggles of a desperate man taking on a moving mountain.

The humanoid beast, Argus, shook its massive shoulders in a vain attempt to dislodge the skinny warrior clinging to its coarse fur for dear life. The man's knuckles were white but he did not feel the pressure on his hands. Despite his dire circumstances, there seemed to be a dullness about his eyes, which were once a vibrant blue.

The beast stopped jostling for a fateful minute in which the warrior, Wander, nimbly dropped down to the back of its right arm, just above the elbow that was clad in a broken ring of stone armor. A faint glow emanated from the dark fur of the beast; a weak point humming to life because of the power of Wander's sword. Without hesitation, the man plunged his weapon into the tender flesh.

Argus immediately recoiled in pain, lifting its arm and dropping the massive stone club that it held in its right hand. The motion caused Wander to lose his grip and fall to the ground, where he quickly got to his feet again, watching the beast carefully to calculate its next move. It was as if the warrior didn't feel the impact of the fall jar his bones.

Was this really the case, was he just so close to the end of his task that pain was no longer an obstacle? Finally, after a complicated and arduous struggle to outwit this Colossus, he was nearly there. One more sigil, and then the Fifteenth would fall. One more Colossus, and he would have done Dormin's bidding. He would be able to hold his dear Mono – full of life - in his arms once more.

Wander darted out of the way as Argus slammed its massive fist angrily on the floor, causing the stone to rupture and the entire foundation of the building to shake. That was when the man saw it. Glowing like a beacon in the middle of the beast's clenched fist was the symbol he knew all too well. The thought of Mono gave him a surge of energy. He ran forward and grabbed onto what little fur was there, pulled his arm back and stabbed. Over and over his sword tore into Argus's palm, warm black blood spewing all around him, blanketing the already grimy clothes of the warrior. Here he was, only the size of an ant to this monster, and yet he was draining the life from it like a leech. He stabbed until he felt the beast falter beneath him. He released his grip and stood back, panting, as Argus staggered forward and finally fell dramatically on its stomach, sending a quake through the earth. Defeated.

Wander had learned long ago not to run from the spectral tendrils that came for him after every Colossus fell. This time he almost welcomed them. He braced himself as the black strands tore through his body, and he was brought to his knees. The stone castle blurred in his vision and faded. He felt himself flying into a white light; whispers all around him.

...

When he came to, Wander kept his eyes closed for a moment. He let the sounds of the Forbidden Lands seep into his consciousness. The unrelenting wind, the distant screech of a hawk. The crash of waves against a shoreline…?

The warrior's eyes shot open, and it was in that moment that he realized he felt sand below him. He sat up immediately. He was not in the Shrine of Worship.

He was on a beach, with his mare Agro standing faithfully beside him. But it wasn't just any beach – it was the shoreline where he had slain Quadratus, the Bull. He recognized it immediately by the stone pillars buried into the sand and the slanted path leading up to the plains. There was something missing, however – the corpse of the second Colossus.

Throughout his task Wander had taken time to explore the Forbidden Lands. Occasionally he would revisit his old battlegrounds, only to notice that the Colossi, when defeated, became mounds of stone and rubble that were slowly being reclaimed by the earth. In fact, he had seen Quadratus's fallen figure for himself when crossing over the earthen bridge. But it wasn't here.

Nothing about this felt right. Wander didn't know what force always transported him back to the Shrine after each Colossus battle – he'd never questioned it; he was always grateful. This time, however, it appeared to have failed. If this was Dormin's way of messing with him before leading him to the last Colossus, he was far from amused.

Wander was different in more ways than just his location. He felt… _fine_. He was not in pain, nor lethargic, nor did he feel like his blood was being replaced by that of a stranger's, like was the case after slaying each Colossus. The seemingly permanent pit in his stomach as he roamed the Forbidden Lands was no longer there. Upon observation of his appearance, he could see no scratches on his skin; no dirt or blood on his clothes; no tears in the fabric of his tunic. Following each battle he had been magically healed upon awakening of any life-threatening injuries, but this time it felt like he'd been _cleansed_.

At least Agro was here. Wander came to the side of his mare, his only companion throughout these despairing tasks, putting a hand on her neck. He hoisted himself up into the saddle and gave himself a final once-over. He was relieved to see his sword safely in its sheath and his bow and arrows strapped to his back. He goaded Agro into a steady canter and began exploring his surroundings.

He guided his mare up and out of the seaside knoll, to the earthen bridge that would lead him back to the Shrine or towards the desert where he fought Argus. Once he was into the light, he unsheathed his sword and lifted it to the sun in a very practiced habit.

Nothing happened. There were no scattered beams of sunlight glinting off the blade to tell him where he was supposed to go. The sword did not hum promisingly. Wander began to panic.

He was so disoriented that he did not notice he'd been spotted, and approached. He was so unaccustomed to hearing other human voices that the sound of a man's gruff inquiry nearly made him jump out of his skin.

"Who are you, trespasser?"

* * *

**AN; It's been a while since I've posted anything on here, but I'm pretty excited about this one. This is a twist on the events of the game, and will be my take on the origins of Dormin and the ancient inhabitants of the Forbidden Lands. Let me know what you think! - Monica**


	2. Two: Old Fiends, New Foes?

**{CHAPTER TWO: Old Fiends, New Foes?}**

**...**

_Wander snapped his head towards the voice_. Two heavily armored men were riding up to meet him on cream-colored horses, approaching from the Shrine side of the bridge. They were clad in identical tunics of white and royal blue, with heavy-plated silver armor, adorned with what looked like ancient rune patterns etched into the metal. Their helmets were made of the same silver and came down past their ears, with a royal blue cloth covering the mouth and nose area so that Wander could see only their eyes. Both men clutched a battle spear in one hand, and had longswords sheathed at their sides.

Wander halted Agro and gaped at them. How was it possible that there were people here? He hadn't seen a single soul in the entire time he'd been here – gods knew how long that was, he'd lost track of time in this place – and he was certain that these lands were uninhabited. The grounds were cursed.

He rubbed his eyes and even pinched his arm, but no – he was not dreaming. The men were not a result of delirium, as they did not disappear nor shiver like a mirage.

"Speak!" Wander jumped as the man on the left barked at him. "You are not wearing Tribe hues or dressings. Your horse is of a foreign color. You cannot be from here. How did you get past the Gatekeeper?"

Wander opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a confused, hoarse gasp.

The soldier on the right pressed, "What is your name? Where have you come from?"

"Wa—" the warrior cleared his throat, as his voice was raspy from lack of use. "Wander. And… I… I don't know." He supposed this was the truth. He had yet to tie up any loose ends as to what was going on.

The men exchanged slow glances. The one on the right urged his horse forward, and removed a thin rope from his saddlebag. He draped it loosely over Agro's neck, and the other soldier did the same with another rope. Wander's faithful mare snorted in protest.

The man on the left met Wander's gaze; he had piercing green eyes that stood out from under the shadow of his helmet. "As you are unfamiliar with the laws of our land, and you have violated several already, we must take you to the leader of our Tribe as a trespasser. He will deal with you accordingly."

As the armored men came up on either side of Agro, the one who had just spoken leaned forward and swiftly plucked Wander's sword from its sheath, then wrestled his bow and quiver from his back. Wander could do nothing but sit limply atop his saddle and allow it. The man nodded to the other and they spurred their horses forward. Tied to them, Agro had no choice but to match their gait. The three steeds cantered in the direction of the Shrine of Worship.

A heavy silence fell over the trio. Wander was at the mercy of these strange men. Unarmed and thoroughly confused, he felt vulnerable and afraid. Tribe? Their land? This land belonged to no one but Dormin and the Colossi, didn't they know that? But his tongue felt tied; he had not the words to properly voice his helplessness.

Distractedly, Wander's gaze fell to the Shrine as they came past it, the building that had been his sanctuary. Something was different about it. He squinted his eyes and tried to place this uncertainty. It seemed brighter. The sand-colored stone was shining like it was flecked with gold. No longer was it the decrepit and moss-covered building that he knew; it was as if it had been rebuilt. More than that, the stone was reflecting bright sunlight. The sky was a lively blue and flecked with only a few puffy white clouds. It was not the perpetual cloud cover that he was used to, and the wind was not howling, and it was _warm_. Wander realized that under his clothes he was sweating.

A burst of color caught Wander's eye and as they rode past the Shrine, he saw four large, horizontal flags lining the front of it. The first was black, with the white outline of a fierce wolf's head sewn into it. Second came a flag that was the same blue that the soldiers wore on their tunics, with the brown silhouette of a hawk in flight. The next flag was a deep emerald green, embroidered with the white, abstract outline of a lizard's body. Lastly came a white flag, and on it was the black profile of the head of a doe.

Tribe sigils, perhaps? Fascinated, Wander desired a better look at the majestic Shrine, but they didn't go inside. They continued forward, to the east, the men saying nothing and focusing their eyes straight ahead.

If they were passing the Shrine, then where were they going? The soldiers steered their horses into the shadow of a mountain pass, and soon the path narrowed with a cliff drop-off to their left and the mountainside to their right. The horses slowed and carefully picked their way along the winding path.

With a jolt, Wander recognized this trail. It was exactly the route that had taken him to the fifth Colossus. The prey-bird of stone. Dormin had called it Avion.

They rounded the corner to approach the grassy clearing that came just before the entrance to Avion's lair. But as they did, Wander was again taken aback. The clearing was exploding with life. There were quaint huts scattered along the mountainside, smoke drifting from their small chimneys. People milled about, dressed in white and brown tunics, with various dressings of royal blue. Curious glances and whispers were tossed his way as he was led by the soldiers through the bustle. A ways away from the cluster of huts was a large wooden structure, a stable, with dozens upon dozens of stalls that were filled with horses of the same cream-colored hide.

They approached the mountain opening that was the beginning of the stone path to Avion's lair and the lake that filled it. Two soldiers, dressed identical to the ones that had taken him but not as heavily armored, policed the entranceway. As he was elevated above them on Agro, Wander craned his neck to see the lake better, but it was largely shrouded in shadow from the mountain.

"We are taking him to see Skystone," the soldier on his right told the guards, causing Wander to look over to him. Wander glanced to the guards for their reaction, trying to figure out what was about to happen, but all the men were expressionless.

One of the guards simply nodded and the soldiers on either side of Wander dismounted their horses. As the ropes were taken off of Agro, they were tossed gently onto him and he was pulled none too gently from his saddle. The guards led the steeds away, and Wander glanced back helplessly at his mare, a jet-black target among the cream horses. He couldn't look for long, as he was shoved forward by the soldiers who were now holding his arms.

Wander felt anxiety well up in his chest. Avion's lair - a place that was once so familiar - now held only secrets to him. Whatever this place was, it was not the Forbidden Lands that he once knew, and he was its prisoner. Wander was completely and utterly lost.

* * *

**AN; Wander's got himself in hot water again... I want to thank those of you who have followed and reviewed this story; it's appreciated! Keep the feedback coming. I promise you guys are in for a ride (: - Monica**


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